sandals

The last phase of replacing my footwear involved everyday casual shoes. I used to wear sneakers pretty regularly, but over time I replaced them with other things. My routine physical activity doesn't involve much running, so I don't really need sneakers for anything. (Well, unless you count the occasional sprint to catch a bus or train.) When I started commuting by bike, I figured the harder soles would help, but a few times getting wet was enough to finish off my old pair. I decided that sandals made for getting wet would be a better choice for commuting. By this time I was wearing Crocs most of the time, not really by choice. My wife had discovered them and insisted on getting me a pair. I wore them until they had holes in the bottom, at which point she got me another pair. I started to wear them for nicer occasions, but continued to wear the old ones whenever possible.

The main thing I like about Crocs is that they're relatively loose, and give my feet freedom to perform their natural functions without constriction. They're also easy to slip on and off, which fits well with my tendency to go around in bare feet unless I absolutely need to wear something. Getting wet doesn't hurt them (though, once the tread wears down, they're pretty slippery), so I can wear them in all kinds of weather. And they are pretty comfortable, whether new or old. But they do wear out, and there's no chance of repairing them. They used to have a recycling program, but it doesn't seem to be around anymore. So part of the reason that I keep wearing both pairs is that I'm hoping the recycling option will come back. Then at least I can throw them away with a little bit clearer conscience.

In line with the goal of multitasking, I wanted to replace both the sandals (which seem to have worn down really quickly, considering that I hardly ever wore them aside from my 2-3 days per week commuting, and then walking only a few minutes each day) and the Crocs with one pair of shoes. A first logical step was to get rid of the Crocs, which were too soft for bike riding, and just wear sandals. But I didn't want to stick with the same molded-plastic sandals that I was already using (which weren't very comfortable anyway for walking). I wanted something that would hold up better and could be repaired, and preferably something made in America.

My first inspiration was Birkenstocks. They're notoriously repairable, and they're supposed to be comfortable enough that they would work for general use. They have hard enough soles for bike riding, but I didn't know how they'd do getting seriously wet. I also wanted to make sure that I ruled out any possible American-made alternative.

I found a reference to Chacos, which were supposed to be repairable, though perhaps only through the manufacturer. But I discovered pretty quickly that they were no longer American-made. In fact, I really couldn't find any American-made sandals that would meet my needs. I considered moccasins, but there I'd have the same problem with soft soles. The one exception that I found was made with a hard Vibram sole, but it was glued on, so repair was unlikely. I concluded that I'd probably have to settle for German-made Birkenstocks, which is still a pretty good option--they have a long tradition in Germany and a unique design, and they're still made locally, even if it's not my locale. I could also find a (reasonably) local store, where I could try them on and really know what I was getting.

I found mixed indications about getting Birkenstocks wet, but the gist seemed to be that, although they're not exactly designed for it, plenty of people wear them in all kinds of weather without any real problems. Use the cork sealant and treat the leather; let them dry slowly when they do get wet, and they should do fine.

My Crocs and sandals still have some life left in them, but the Doc Martens never broke in like I was hoping. I think I actually got them at least a half-size too small, so I'm back to wearing my old, stiff, and not-quite-the-right-size dress shoes for church. I'd like to say that enduring such discomfort is an acceptable ascetic sacrifice, but I really needed to come up with a better solution. So, I went ahead and bought the Birkenstocks to wear for church. Julie's not a fan, but I think they look fine with dark socks. Once the other shoes wear out, I'll migrate them to more general use.

buying local, locally

As I expressed in my post on overthinking footwear, I consider it a top priority to buy products made and sold as locally as possible. This presents an inherent conflict--what happens if locally made and locally sold products are mutually exclusive? Case in point--I couldn't find the boots that I needed at In Step Leather, which was pretty much the only independently owned supplier in Elkridge. I settled on buying boots from L. L. Bean, which is at least an American-based company with strong community ties (in Maine), and which has a retail store in my area. But there's rarely a good solution.

I recently needed to buy new underwear. There aren't a lot of American-made options (let alone anything truly local to Elkridge or Maryland). You can pay $100+ for boutique briefs, or you can buy something that's American-made for the sake of being American-made. I respect that, but it doesn't always equal quality. And neither kind is easy to find on a local store shelf. For that matter, locally owned clothing stores are few and far between. So I settled for Campbellsville Apparel, which makes underwear for the U. S. military. I'm not a big supporter of the military-industrial complex, but economic reality is what it is. To make relatively inexpensive underwear in America and stay viable, I can't imagine there are many options that don't involve a government contract. Plus, in this area military is local (sort of). Instead of ordering them online, I got a friend to pick up a couple of packages on base.

I'm also trying to find some dress socks--the thin kind that you're supposed to wear with dress shoes. I don't use them so much that I go through them quickly, but right now I have only one pair, and it doesn't look like it's going to last much longer. I found one locally-owned men's store, but they didn't sell anything American-made. I found a few suppliers online, but I don't know enough about socks to order with much confidence that I'll get the kind I really want. Since it looks like I'll have to buy from a chain store one way or another, it occurred to me to check back with L. L. Bean. Their products are hit-and-miss. I think they genuinely try to contract American when they can, but many of their products are made overseas as well. I think I may be in luck--I found several styles that look right and are designated USA-made. It's probably worth another trip to check them out.

But these are only two examples of a systemic problem. It's hard to succeed in small business, especially if you're competing directly with multinational corporations. So I suspect there's a quite a bit of pressure to sell competitively priced products, which generally means stuff made overseas. Either that, or find yourself a niche like high-quality, high-end. Maybe that would lead you to $100 underwear, but it still doesn't meet the need of a thrifty but socially conscious consumer. So unless you're fortunate enough to have a local niche retailer who specializes in American-made, chances are pretty good that you won't just happen across that sort of thing.

The Internet is a marvelous invention. As far as I'm concerned, one of its greatest accomplishments is to connect people with their interests, however obscure. I might not know a single person in my community who collects used dental floss, but if there are half a dozen of us in the world, we can now find each other and form a club. If there are 50 of us, someone can figure out how to make money at it. Right now, American-made is a lifestyle choice. However much one might argue that it's economically more beneficial in the grand scheme of things, most consumers will look at the price tag and go with whatever's cheapest. So the challenge in the real world is finding enough customers who will pay extra for a clean conscience. Online, there's a much larger pool to draw from, and you're more likely to create a viable business selling this stuff.

But for me, it's not just about American-made. It's about supporting local economy in whatever way I can. I want my products made as locally as possible, but I also want the rest of the supply chain as local as possible. If more products were made right here in and around Elkridge, the rest would probably fall into place a bit more neatly. But as it is, "locally made" rarely gets much better than "made in the same time-zone." So how am I really affecting my community, if instead of buying underwear made in Honduras from the Walmart down the road, I'm supporting a business that's local somewhere in Kentucky?

Maybe I'm just too lazy for this. If I see a need, I should work to meet it. Instead of just ordering my own pair of socks, maybe I should try to become a local supplier of those socks to others in my community. Or better yet, get some training and equipment, and start making socks in my garage, and selling them at local craft fairs and farmer's markets. But in the meantime, how can I support my local economy? Is it even a realistic objective?

boots

As I mentioned an earlier post, buying responsibly requires a lot of effort. You have to become a minor expert in the product that you want. Putting in all that work, just so you can spend money (usually, spend more than you would otherwise) and then hopefully not do it again for years to come, seems like something of a letdown. There should be more payoff. For a blogger, of course, this means that surely I'm here to educate others about how they can also make more informed purchases. So now you get the gory details of my attempt to buy the right boots.

I started by searching online for boot brands that could be repaired. I identified local dealers, figuring that if they carried one or two repairable brands, they'd probably carry others. My first visit was to In Step Leather, a local biker shop. They had a decent selection, but understandably most of their stock was taller than I really wanted. Because I needed to ride a bicycle in winter, I couldn't have my boots restricting ankle movement. They offered to help track down what I needed, if I could come up with a good set of criteria; so I started a list:

• Welt construction
• Steel shank
• 6" height
• Soft toe
• Lug sole
• Waterproof
• Non-insulated
• Brown or tan leather

A logger boot would work, but I only found one brand that carried 6" loggers. For the most part, I was looking at work boots. I found four brands, each of which had one style that looked promising, ranging in price from $100 to $200. I tried other stores to see if I could try them on, but it was nearly impossible to find anything in stock. General-purpose shoe and clothing stores didn't carry the heavy-duty lines that I was interested in; industrial stores carried almost exclusively safety-toe boots.

Along the way, a friend suggested L. L. Bean, which I didn't know carried work boots. It turned out that they had one that fit my criteria, and it was made by Chippewa--one of the brands I had looked at but ruled out because I couldn't find the right style. The local store actually had my size in stock (sort of), and their satisfaction guarantee, free shipping, and no-hassle return policy were some added benefits to consider. Those factors alone would weigh heavily against most other options, where I'd be faced with ordering something online and paying return shipping if it didn't fit.

I also discovered that two of the boots were not made smaller than a size 8, which ruled them out altogether. So my list was down to three. Of those, the L. L. Bean was the most expensive (but with significant benefits, as I already mentioned). The Wolverine (it appears that the 6" is no longer available) was close in price, and both were American-made. But since I couldn't find a local supplier, it wasn't worth the small savings over the L. L. Bean. The remaining option was a Carhartt work boot, made by Red Wing. I discovered when I called about sizing that all Carhartt styles were temporarily discontinued. They had ended their contract with Red Wing and were transitioning to a new manufacturer. This explained why the Red Wing store was listed online as a Carhartt retailer, but said when I visited that they'd stopped carrying them. There were still boots out there in my size, but I would have to order them online, and the more time went on, the harder it would be to exchange them. Still, they could be had for about $50 less than the L. L. Bean, and as far as I could tell, would fit most of my criteria.

The main disadvantage to the L. L. Bean was the price tag. But the advantages were substantial. Again, I could try on the boots in the store and know what I was getting. Even if they didn't have my size in stock, I could order with free shipping and return them to the store if they didn't work out for any reason. L. L. Bean has a lifetime satisfaction guarantee, so that extends the benefit considerably. Also, they were American made, which was one of my top priorities starting out. $50 extra was still a tough pill to swallow, but in the end it seemed like the better option, especially if I could bide my time and wait for a decent sale.

It took a while, but I finally caught a 10% off everything sale for Columbus Day. In the meantime, I'd discovered that I could use points from one of our credit cards toward a $50 L. L. Bean gift card. I returned to the store, so I could try them on one more time, and realized that the medium was very snug. They came in a wide (EE) option, but the store didn't stock them. So I ordered online (knowing I could exchange them for free if they were too big) and waited an extra week for delivery. It was a good move. I don't think my feet are supposed to be EE, but they fit perfectly. The construction is exactly what I wanted, and the quality seems high. Out of my footwear purchases so far, this seems like the biggest win.

dress shoes

My old dress shoes were from Payless, because of course, I wanted to pay less. I actually had two pairs--one that I kept at work, and one that I wore to church. That doesn't say much for multitasking, but it saved me a lot of trouble commuting. I didn't have to wear dress shoes with shorts, or mess them up by traveling in the rain and snow, and I didn't have to carry them back and forth in my already overstuffed bag. It also created a natural rotation so that (if I had shoes where it mattered), they could rest between uses. I managed to keep them going for quite some time, but as luck would have it, they both wore out within a few months of each other.

My first thought was to select a high-quality brand, figure out what size and style I would need, and then watch for a used pair on eBay. I started the process some time ago by visiting a shoe repair shop and asking what to look for in a repairable shoe. That gave me a little bit to go on, but I still felt in over my head. I tracked down some brands that were listed on shoe repair sites and visited a few stores to try them on. I hadn't achieved much clarity, when it occurred to me that I might still have another pair hanging around. These were the shoes that I wore in our wedding 15 years ago. I believe I got them free at church. Sure enough, I had shoved them somewhere in the back of the closet and forgotten about them. They're extremely stiff and not very comfortable, but I figured I could get by with them for a while.

A few months later, while shopping for boots, it occurred to me that work shoes might be a better way to go. I rarely need to dress up all that much, so they would probably meet my needs. They would be designed for comfort and probably have wider, less constricting toes. Good ones should be repairable, like any good work boot. So I started looking for brands of work shoes. I knew Red Wing, of course, and I discovered some John Deere oxfords. I also discovered Doc Martens, which appeared to have an industrial line.

I couldn't find a promising local vendor for the John Deere shoes or for Doc Martens. Sure, plenty of stores sell Doc Martens, but to get the industrial line, you have to go somewhere that specializes in safety shoes. I didn't want steel toe or anything like that, and the selections weren't good enough to find anything else. They ran more expensive than the John Deere, so if it came to ordering a shoe online, I figured there wasn't much point.

I thought Red Wings would be my best bet, since I knew there were local dealers. But there was really only one style that I was interested in, and the local store didn't carry it in stock. They said I'd have to pay in advance to order, so I wasn't much better off than with the other brands--plus, they were the most expensive option.

I finally decided to try ordering the John Deere shoes, but I discovered that they were discontinued. I also discovered that a lot of online stores will list sizes based on what they think they can get from the manufacturer. So although it appeared that I could get them for around $70, I was all the way up to $100 by the time I found someone who could get me a pair in my freakishly small size. (I don't know why they could get them when others couldn't, but who am I to complain?) And even at that, they weren't sure there would actually be any available.

After I ordered, I started wondering what I would do if I couldn't get the John Deere shoes. I had pretty much assumed that I couldn't get anything American made, but by this point I'd started to think a little more about that issue. Sure, locally made was my first choice, and American made was the next best thing. But if I couldn't get that, was everything else all the same? I would say now, not really. You see, there are at least two kinds of imports. There's the stuff, like Persian rugs, that we import because it originated in some part of the world where the quality is simply unparalleled. That's just where you have to go to get the real thing. Then there's the stuff that we import because it's cheaper to make it somewhere else and ship it halfway around the world. I would say the first kind is morally superior, because it's not about eliminating jobs here and exploiting lower standards over there, just to save a few bucks.

So even though Doc Martens are a British brand, that doesn't necessarily put them on a par with Dan Post boots (the manufacturer of the John Deere brand) made in China. As it turns out, most Doc Martens are also made in Asia, but not all. Some of their vintage styles are still made in the UK, and although this does not include their industrial line, they are still supposed to be roomy, comfortable, repairable shoes. Of course, they're also more expensive than other Doc Martens, but that's to be expected. I found an online coupon and ordered a pair to replace my shoes at work, which had just developed a split in the sole.

The John Deeres arrived, and the sizing was pretty accurate. If anything, they were a touch loose--but I can live with that. I was mostly concerned that they might end up being too small, so I couldn't wear them. They're oiled leather and look very much like work boots--more than I was expecting once you're wearing them with pants so you can't see how high they go. But I think they'll do the job, and the nice thing is, the care should be the same as for whatever boots I finally buy. I kind of wish I'd thought more about the whole "made in China" thing sooner, but aside from that, I'm happy with the purchase.

The Doc Martens took quite a bit longer to arrive, but they also turned out to be the right size. They're not pointy like a lot of dress shoes, but they're also not quite as roomy as I was hoping. I think that and the stiff leather account for any discomfort I felt up front. I doubt they'll ever be my most comfortable shoes, but as dress shoes go, they should break in OK. I think I'll keep them at home for a while and try to figure out which pair makes more sense to have at work. The Doc Martens look nicer and would probably work with a wider range of casual-to-dress clothes. But if they're the less comfortable of the two, I might better save them for less sustained use, like church and special occasions.

obsessing about leather

Of course, if I'm going to invest in shoes and boots that I hope will last for years to come, I also need to make sure I take proper care of them. There's no point resoling worn-out uppers. Coincidentally, we also recently bought a used leather couch. (That one was Julie's idea, but I like it.) In the process of moving it, I managed to scuff some corners, so we'd been trying to figure out what we could do about that. It all worked out nicely, because it turned out the solutions were quite similar.

I spent quite a bit of time looking online for information about leather care. One thing I began to discover was that experts tend not to advise what's popular. Products like mink oil and Sno Seal are downplayed in favor of regular conditioning. The general idea seems to be that leather is skin, and its main problem is that it's no longer wrapped around a living animal. Since it lacks a natural source of moisturizing agents, it needs regular treatment to keep it flexible, breathable, and waterproof. Greasy or waxy products that clog the pores will diminish breathability and will generally not soak into the leather well enough to keep it flexible. Instead they advise conditioners made mostly of beeswax or lanolin.

Of course, one of the problems with looking online for this kind of information is knowing how far to trust the sources. Mostly you find Web sites for leather care products, where they tell you why other stuff doesn't work right. Obviously. But I did find one or two sites run by leather repair shops that said the same thing. I also got an important recommendation in passing from a biker apparel shop. When I was looking for local boot dealers, I came across In Step Leather, which specializes in motorcycle apparel but sells a wide range of boots. Unfortunately, they didn't have the specific brands and styles that I settled on, but they were very helpful throughout the process. Since they do a lot with leather, I asked about our couch, and they recommended Outback Leather on Main Street in Laurel.

Outback does all kinds of leather repair and sells some leather care products. They specialize in equestrian, which I guess is a good idea, so close to the Laurel Race Track. The shop has loads of character, and the proprietor was very helpful. He confirmed what I'd read online about leather conditioning and recommended a brand called Bickmore. Regarding the couch, he suggested conditioning the whole thing, while emphasizing the scuffed areas. After a few applications, there was significant improvement. You can still see the marks if you look for them, but some are almost completely invisible, while the worst are just slightly discolored.

Because regular conditioning is supposed to waterproof leather, I've also become a bit obsessive about applying the stuff to my shoes. I figure I'll do this for a while, since I don't know how long they sat around before shipping, or how well the leather was oiled in the first place. Later, I'll settle into a more regular routine. So far, my obsession has paid off. I don't know if I ever would have found the solution for the couch if I hadn't been thinking so much about boots. It will take longer to determine how much it helps to extend the life of my shoes.

overthinking footwear

I'm afraid I've developed something of a shoe fetish. Don't get me wrong--I won't be the next Imelda Marcos or anything; my closet should fit me for years to come. But just as the Fathers warn that there are two types of gluttony--the kind where you eat everything in sight, and the kind where you eat only the best food money can buy--I'm pretty sure there are at least two types of obsession when it comes to shoes.

For quite some time, I've been thinking (more than doing anything) about buying more responsibly. I've tried to be realistic about it, which I guess is part of the reason that not much has happened. You see, my financial decisions affect more people than me, and while I would be willing to make a certain level of sacrifice to placate my own sense of moral responsibility, in general I've tried to avoid forcing that on others. So, once you subtract out the big-ticket items that affect the whole household and the routine purchases that Julie typically handles, there's really not much left. In fact, my primary means of buying responsibly is not to buy at all, or to muddle along with something until it's completely worthless. An example here would be my infamous first pair of Crocs, which I'm still wearing years later, even though they have rather large holes in the bottom.

A somewhat less well-known example is my trusty pair of boots. My real snow boots, which I'd had since I think 5th or 6th grade, wore out sometime after we moved to Maryland. Since Maryland winters never get very severe, I decided not to replace them and fell back on my hiking boots, which I'd got free from my father-in-law. They're probably around 15 years old now, and the past couple of winters I've had to hit them with Super Glue to keep them from falling apart. I realized last winter that this couldn't go on forever, so I started planning to buy new boots.

Now, at this point I should probably explain what I mean by "buying responsibly." (There's hardly an accepted definition.) The path of least resistance is to buy in accordance with the marketing we're subjected to every day. Being a world-class cheapskate and someone who doesn't exactly like to shop around, for me this would normally mean buying from Walmart or a similar discount department store. After all, who doesn't like everyday low prices? But when you stop and think about it, this is a very superficial way to do business.

Somewhere back in the dawn of time, someone needed food or clothing or shelter, and did what he could to find it or make it. Before too long, he figured out that, although he wasn't good at everything, he could trade for things that others did better. This created an opportunity to specialize and get even more skilled, and everyone benefited from the system. Money was introduced, because it's easier to carry than, say, a sheep; and merchants arose, whose business was getting stuff from remote places. But generally speaking, you were still not far removed from the actual producer. Values of things made sense and depended on factors like how much labor went into production, how far you had to go to get them, and how scarce the raw materials were. You pretty much knew what you were getting, where it came from, and whether it was a fair price. In those days, the effect that your purchases had on people in your own community was pretty obvious.

Today, the system is much more complex, and part of the outcome is that I can easily conduct a transaction without even thinking about the people involved. I'll never know anything about the Third-World sweatshop worker who assembled my sneakers. The guy in the store who helps me buy them doesn't know her either. He also doesn't know much of anything about the product and barely knows how to run a cash register. I'm pretty sure some kind of machine could do his job better, and if I buy my sneakers online, I assume it did. I'm not thinking about the small shop owner who can't make enough money to stay in business, or the laid-off factory worker who can't find a job for his skill set, or the absurd amount of fuel that it takes to move my cheap goods halfway around the world, or the living standard of the person who does make them. I'm just thinking about what I want and how cheap I can get it.


So, if I'm going to buy responsibly, I need to turn off the marketing, stop buying reflexively, and consider the most important priorities. For me, there are at least three:

• Products made and sold as locally as possible. Some products can realistically be found in the local community; for other things, like shoes, this often means buying American. It's hard enough to find shoes manufactured in the USA, without worrying about whether they were made in the Pacific Northwest or the Deep South. I would love to buy a shoe made here in Maryland, but if I can't do that, I'd at least like to know that most of my money is helping to support American industry.
• Products made to last. This means at least two things. They should be made well, so that they don't wear out quickly; and they should be constructed according to renewable methods, so that they can be easily repaired. Most shoes these days are made with glue-on soles. Repair shops have figured out ways to work with them--mostly by cutting off the soles and re-building them according to more traditional methods--but it seems more sensible to buy shoes made properly in the first place, if the intention is to use them as long as possible. I'd rather not chuck shoes in a landfill when they still have life in them. So repairability is big for me.
• Products that can multitask. I don't want to have to buy a separate pair of shoes for every activity. So for instance, if I'm buying boots, I want them to work for walking, hiking, shoveling snow, and riding a bike in winter.

Following these priorities is not easy. It's not the kind of information that manufacturers or retailers want you to think about. So I've found myself spending a lot of time thinking about shoes. I tell myself that it's just for now--that once I've bought the shoes I hope to buy, I can go years and years without thinking about them again. But right now, it really does feel like an obsession. Case in point, this is already a long post, and I haven't got to the details of my purchases yet. There is more to come . . . .

1812 Overture

Ft. McHenry is one of the few places where I can feel patriotic. Although it was used to imprison Maryland legislators suspected of favoring secession, it was also where the Battle of Baltimore was fought and won. The War of 1812 may have been a silly war, but at least here in Maryland it wasn't for the sake of American expansion. Here, it was about freedom from British control, plain and simple. Our clippers harried British ships, and when we came under full-scale attack, our well-prepared defenses won the day. The Star Spangled Banner may be our national anthem, but its home is in Baltimore.

While poking around online for information about the War of 1812, I came across a reference to the 1812 Overture. I knew about it, of course--a popular tune at Independence Day celebrations, during fireworks displays, and the music to which V set his explosions in V for Vendetta. If I'd had to guess, I would have supposed it to have some connection with our War of 1812. Not only would I have been wrong, but I would have had twice the reason to be embarrassed.

The same series of Napoleonic Wars that led Britain to blockade American ports also saw the invasion of Russia. But Napoleon stretched his army too far, and he was forced to retreat, losing most of his men along the way. Tsar Alexander I commissioned the building of Christ the Savior Cathedral as a thank-offering, and it was completed 68 years later amid festivities. It was at that point that Tchaikovsky wrote the Overture to commemorate the battle. The piece includes two renditions of the troparion of the Holy Cross, which had been something like the Byzantine national anthem and was often used in times of great distress as a corporate prayer for deliverance. It's a familiar tune to me--my local parish is dedicated to the Holy Cross, so we sing the troparion pretty much every Sunday.

Apparently Tchaikovsky was very popular in America during his lifetime, and his composition was just so well-suited to the 4th of July! It's one of the few classical pieces written for cannons. So despite Cold War concerns about all things Russian, its popularity has survived the 20th c. largely intact. I suspect that most Americans have no idea where it originated or what it's about. (At least, it makes me feel better to think that I'm not the only one.) It's just another selection in our patriotic repertoire.

Which is fine with me. I'll quietly look forward each year to hearing the former Byzantine and Russian national anthems played prominently for American Independence Day.